Breathe In, Breathe Out
by whimsicalwishes
Summary: Neji/Shikamaru. AU. Lemon. “And what does this exercise entail?” “Sex.” Well, wasn’t he straightforward.


**Warning:** Shameless smut. Seriously. (I can see you licking your lips in anticipation. Don't deny it.)

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"I've had a headache for about two weeks now. It hasn't gone away, and is incredibly distracting when it comes to my work." Shikamaru leaned back in the armchair.

Neji took some notes at his desk. "And what is your profession?"

"It doesn't matter." He waved a hand.

"It might have to do with your headaches."

"Headache," Shikamaru corrected. "It's just been one continuous headache." Neji looked at him pointedly. "My job just requires a lot of thinking."

"Do you live alone?"

The more questions he was asked, the more Shikamaru began regretting his decision of seeing a therapist. It was just a headache, after all—a few aspirin, and he'd be as good as new. "No. I live with my girlfriend."

"I see. Do you two have a good relationship? Good sex?" Shikamaru scowled. Neji had no shame in asking these things.

"Our sex is fine, thank you."

"Do you talk? Communicate? Nara-san, I will need you to open up to me, if you would like this to get anywhere. Please don't make this difficult for either of us." The two men stared at each other for a long moment—Shikamaru felt his jaw tensing, before he exhaled. Troublesome.

"I suffer from insomnia," he said, crossing his arms. "It's never been a problem before, but it's getting worse now. My girlfriend and I argue on a regular basis, but it always ends with make up sex. She spends most of my money on clothes and other feminine things, and it's beginning to get difficult to pay for the rent. My father figure passed away recently from lung cancer." As the last words passed his lips, he took a shuddering breath. He needed a smoke.

Neji took his time with writing things down. "What do you do during your spare time?"

"Cloud-gaze. Play shogi. Although there's not much time for that anymore—I've been working OT a lot now, to be able to pay for the rent."

"Your girlfriend doesn't work?"

"She's in med school. That's another pain in the ass the pay off."

There was a long moment of silence, before the therapist finally put his pen down. "Nara-san, we're going to do a few exercises." Shikamaru nodded. "Firstly—would you please smile?" He blinked, before scowling. "No, Nara-san. A smile. That is not a smile." His frown only deepened when he caught the traces of humor in Neji's voice.

"I'll smile when I am given a reason to smile. Hyuuga-san, you are not very amusing, to say the least."

Neji sighed. "Alright. We'll move to the next exercise." He stood from his chair and walked over to Shikamaru. "I would like to relax and close your eyes." Shikamaru sat up straighter in his armchair, wary, but nonetheless, did as he was told.

For a moment, there was silence. Then he felt something warm press against his lips. His eyes shot open in unadulterated shock, and he shoved Neji away. The therapist stumbled backwards a couple of steps, but otherwise, seemed unfazed.

Shikamaru wiped his mouth across his arm. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"A stress-relieving exercise," Neji said, shrugging.

"Do you do this for all of your patients?"

"No," he admitted. "Only for the attractive men. Which, mind you, are hard to come by."

Shikamaru scowled. "I'm straight."

"That is irrelevant. This is nothing but an exercise. This session will be free of charge if you are not satisfied by the end of this." Shikamaru's eyes narrowed at the other man, calculating the number of different outcomes and consequences. Most of the weren't good—but they were also rather unlikely. The chances of them meeting again were slim, as long as he didn't visit again.

"What does his exercise entail?" he asked suspiciously.

Neji crossed his arms, leaning backwards onto his desk. "Sex. No-strings-attached sex. You will not be required to satisfy me in any way—you are the patient, after all. I understand if you are concerned—everything is confidential. No one will know if you say nothing of it. And if someone does happen to find out, it was nothing but an exercise."

Shikamaru took another moment to think about it. This headache really was getting bothersome.

"Are you free of diseases?" he asked carefully.

"Yes. And you?"

"My girlfriend insists that I get checked monthly. So yes."

"Then as long as you're willing, I see no problem with it." Neji's eyes were intent on him. Shikamaru still found it disbelieving that the therapist would do something like this—it was bordering illegal, wasn't it?

Finally, he closed his eyes briefly, and sighed. "Fine." When he looked at Neji, there was a small smirk of triumph set on his lips, before he walked over and kissed Shikamaru again—longer and more sensual this time. Butterflies exploded in his stomach, before the feeling went straight down to his groin. "Just so you know, though," he said, breathless already, "I've never done this before."

"No experience is necessary, Nara-san." Neji's swift fingers were unbuttoning his dress shirt, before he nipped at his earlobe. Shikamaru shuddered, hands gripping the armrests of the armchair. Neji kneeled down between his legs, lips and tongue working in a light, teasing manner on his neck, collarbone, and down his chest. He sucked in a breath when he passed his nipple. His shirt was off too quickly, and his belt was unbuckled even quicker. His heart pounded against his ribcage when he lifted his hips so his jeans could come off.

His cheeks flushed when he realized he was already half hard—he'd never even found men attractive before.

Neji took Shikamaru's length in his hand, giving it a few firm pumps. Shikamaru grit his teeth together, determined not to make any embarrassing, girly sounds that Ino always made when they had sex—but the image of Ino going down on him had never been as arousing as the image of Neji's tongue sliding from the base of his shaft all the way to the tip, before taking him into his mouth.

He swallowed. It was going to take more self-restraint to keep quiet than he thought.

"The point of this exercise, Nara-san," Neji said, releasing him with a small pop, "is to relax and let go. You're only stressing yourself more."

"It's a bit hard to relax when a man I barely know is _blowing_ me." The last few words came out in a hiss, because Neji's lips had already wrapped around him again—this time, slowly descending until the tip of his shaft was pressing against the back of his throat.

Shit. He was so hard. He'd never gotten to full arousal this fast before.

"Just relax," Neji breathed, rising up to meet him in a kiss, "and let go." He began to undo his own shirt, and tossed it aside. Shikamaru's attention was immediately caught by the sharp contrast between the therapist's dark hair and pale skin—and his opalescent eyes were equally shiver-inducing. He leaned forward to touch him, to see how that skin really felt underneath his fingers—but he was gently pushed back.

"Let me _do_ something," he said brashly, scowling. "I feel like a girl otherwise."

"Oh? I thought you were rather lazy in nature?" Neji didn't wait for a response—his hand wrapped around Shikamaru's shaft, their eyes locked the entire time—and this time, a strangled moan managed to escape his throat. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"Being lazy and keeping one's dignity are two different things," he said with difficulty. His head was pounding with his migraine. His entire body was tense, hands curled into fists and looking for something, _anything_ to hold onto. The way Neji was staring him down while his hand was firmly pumping him was toe-curling, and _dammit, why couldn't Ino be this good?_

"Mm." Neji smirked in amusement. "Just let me do my job, Nara-san." He would've glared at him in frustration, but his shaft was already in his mouth again, and _God_, this man could do wonders with his tongue.

"What about—your secretary?" he gasped, watching Neji's head bob up and down. He gripped the armchair for dear life.

"She'll live," he dismissed, mouth leaving him just momentarily, one of his hands massaging his sacs. Shikamaru's mouth opened in a soundless gasp, chest heaving with heavy breaths. If only his headache would just_ go away_—

Shikamaru threw his head back, body arching into Neji's mouth. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. His eyes screwed shut, orgasm coming over him in a sudden wave of heat.

"Fuck—" He lost all words or coherent thoughts when the therapist reached up and pinched one of his nipples. His body shuddered, tense for several long seconds, before he finally collapsed in the armchair, gasping for air. When he opened his eyes, Neji was wiping his seed off of his chin and licking it off of his hand.

Several moments passed, and they descended into a silence.

What was he supposed to do now?

"I didn't expect you to finish so fast," Neji finally said, straightening up. The bulge in his pants was obvious.

"I haven't encountered someone with skills such as yours," Shikamaru replied carefully, closing his legs, goosebumps crawling up his skin. He was regretting this exercise already.

Neji shook his head. "Never mind that. Are you feeling better? Your headache won't be gone until you've had some rest, but you should have felt some of your tension leave." He picked his shirt up off the ground, and began slipping his arms into the sleeves. Shikamaru swallowed, feeling a little bad for his obvious erection.

"_My_ tension is gone," he said, mind whirring as he weighed the pros and cons. Then he decided to fuck it. He stood up and closed the space in between them, taking Neji's hands and guiding them away from the buttons of his shirt. "Yours isn't." He could feel Neji tense when he kissed him. Shikamaru wasn't experienced with men, but he was sure he could try. His tongue probed Neji's lips, their fingers lacing together—the action was oddly intimate, and he wasn't sure why he did it—

"Nara-san." Neji pulled away from him. "My job as a therapist is d-done." There was a hitch when his voice when Shikamaru squeezed his erection through his pants.

"I thought the attractive men got special treatment?" What the hell was he doing? "Or were you lying when you said that before?" Usually, he'd have pulled on his pants and gotten out of there by now.

Neji frowned. "You're finished already—"

"Actually, I think I'm still stressed. You know." Shikamaru pressed his pelvis against his thigh for emphasis—he was partially hard again.

(The little voice in his head said that he just wanted to feel the man's skin under his palms—he wanted the sex, he wanted the shockwaves sent through his body, he wanted that amazing orgasm again and again and again—)

Neji shuddered, and pressed his forehead against Shikamaru's shoulder when his thigh applied more pressure to his erection. "This session will be free of charge," he managed, and Shikamaru was already pulling his shirt off again, undoing his belt and pulling down his pants, boxers and all. He fell to his knees, eye level with Neji's erection—it was comparable to his own. It might've been a little longer.

The therapist took a shuddering breath when Shikamaru licked the tip. He experimented—the different spots, the different pressures—he found grazing his teeth along the underside of his shaft caused Neji to tense more than the other actions.

"You learn fast," he breathed, pulling Shikamaru to his feet and kissing him.

"I've been told that a lot." It was blissfully erotic, how their bodies were pressed together, skin on skin, their erections sliding up against each other. Shikamaru weaved his hands into Neji's hair—_it must take so much time to care for it_—and breathed, their noses brushing, "Take away my stress, Hyuuga-san." The pale eyes met his gaze, unwavering.

"Sit on the armchair. I'll make sure you don't finish as quickly this time." Shikamaru wished Ino would take him into consideration the way Neji did. She always finished before him, and usually got angry because he was still in the mood when she wasn't.

He sat back on the armchair, the first hints of a smirk on his lips. Neji fell to his knees before him, sucking his sacs momentarily, before having his tongue trail up to the very tip. He held his breath, body tensing. He still wasn't fully hard yet, but that could probably be fixed.

Neji seemed to have the same thoughts, because the moment their eyes locked, he swallowed him whole again.

"You _have_ to stop doing that," he hissed, arching into his mouth. He received no answer—the therapist worked him to a full erection, managing to make him gasp, his toes curl, his body tense, and eliciting grunts much more frequently than he'd prefer.

"I don't have any lube on me, so this'll be a little difficult." Neji reached up so his fingers pressed against Shikamaru's mouth. He complied and parted his lips, his tongue circling the digits in the most erotic fashion he knew, all the while keeping eye contact with the therapist. He could feel his erection thrumming in anticipation—he couldn't believe how one man could turn him on so much.

When the fingers left Shikamaru's mouth, he said wryly, "Go easy on me."

"This time, when I say relax—seriously, relax." When one finger slipped past the tight ring of muscle, Shikamaru wondered why he'd never gone gay. The idea had never bothered him, but it never occurred to him that he _could_ be gay.

Well. That was changing right away.

"Goddamn," he said, gritting his teeth when the second finger slipped in. "Does it hurt like this every time?"

"It gets better with experience," Neji replied easily, moving his fingers slowly. "You up for a third?"

"No."

"Too bad." Shikamaru swore again when the third finger pressed in. Neji took the liberty to wait for him to adjust this time, moving his hand slowly—Shikamaru reciprocated the movements accordingly, although it wasn't particularly feeling good. Why was it that gay men liked doing this—

_Oh._ Oh. That was why.

Neji smirked, and kissed the tip of his erection. "Last finger. You're doing well." Shikamaru closed his eyes, trying to ignore being stretched in ways the human body wasn't supposed to be stretched. Every time the fingers pressed in, it hit his prostrate—_God_, that felt sinfully good.

"Your fingers are very unsatisfying," he finally said when he adjusted. Neji raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"Is that so?" But even as he said those words, he pulled his fingers out and placed them into his own mouth. Shikamaru watched as he slathered them with saliva, before coating his erection with it. It wouldn't be enough, but it'd have to do. Shikamaru reached down to begin stroking himself, rocking into his own touch.

The way Neji always kept eye contact with him was incredibly erotic. He swallowed when he felt the tip of his erection press at his entrance. "This is going to be a bitch, isn't it?"

Neji guided Shikamaru's hand away from his shaft. "No self-pleasing," he said, carefully avoiding the question. "I'll do all of the work here."

The one thing that was running through Shikamaru's mind like a constant marquee when Neji slowly pushed him was _fucking ow_. He screwed his eyes shut, trying to relax. When Neji's hand wrapped around his erection, he grunted in surprise.

"_You_," he said breathlessly, accusingly, "are huge."

"I'll take that as a compliment." As Neji began to move in long, slow strokes, his hand moving to match, he bent down to kiss Shikamaru. He reciprocated easily—it acted as a distraction from how his rectum was being stretched. But, as expected, the pain began to fade, and it was impossible to ignore the way Neji's shaft pressed against his prostate with each thrust.

"You can go faster now," he said, guiding the therapist's hand on his erection to move at a quicker pace. "I'm good."

"This," the other man said, bending down to whisper in his ear, "will be slow sex. It will be slow, tantalizing sex." But even as he said those words, Shikamaru could tell that he was breathless, wanting to hurry the hell up. "I smell smoke in your hair. You should stop, if you don't want to die of lung cancer too." Shikamaru immediately tensed.

"Don't," he said darkly, "say that again." Neji pulled back so he could look at him. There was a tense silence, and he stopped moving in him completely.

"I apologize," he finally said. Shikamaru wiggled his hips a little. "Would you like to continue?"

"Tantalizing sex doesn't include talking about our feelings, does it? So _move_." And the slow pace started up again—sometimes, Neji went a little faster, his hand moving accordingly on Shikamaru's erection—but it was never he shattering pace that Shikamaru really wanted him to go at. He grunted and moaned embarrassingly, but Neji wasn't doing so well with keeping silent either.

"Do you have sadomasochistic tendencies, or something?" he growled, having his thrust meet Neji's.

"I just know that teasing will lead to a bigger finale. The more tension is built, the bigger the release. That's how it is with both headaches and sex."

"Fuck—nngh—you." Neji thrusted particularly hard, angling himself so he hit Shikamaru's prostate spot on. He saw stars behind his eyes, and his mouth opened in a soundless gasp. He was close. God, he was _so close_—

"That, Nara-san, is exactly what you're doing." The therapist's voice came out breathy. Shikamaru's eyes were closed, but he could imagine the expression on his face—tense, amused—_hot_. Shikamaru reached down to just take care of himself—Neji was going way too slow—but the therapist caught his hand fast, and held it above his head. "Just hold on to this dear armchair. That's what it's for." Shikamaru had to comply—his other hand went to hold onto the armchair as well.

And then—and then Neji started talking _dirty_.

"Do you like it when you have no control, Nara-san?" He lifted Shikamaru's legs up so they were resting on his shoulders, causing him to lose all leverage. "Do you like it when another man fucks you like this?"

"This is inhumane," he ground out.

Neji turned his head to the side to kiss his shin, tongue teasing his skin. "Do you want me to fuck you _hard_?" The last word dragged out, his lips pressing sensually against Shikamaru's skin.

He could not believe he was resorting to this. "Yes." He was taking in his air in gulps now, chest heaving, muscles contracting around Neji.

"I can't hear you, _Nara-san_."

Shikamaru swallowed. "Hyuuga, if you don't pound into me this instant, I swear to God—" But he never got to say what he swore to God, because in that moment, Neji pulled back until just his tip was inside of him, and slammed right back in. Shikamaru didn't have time to swallow his shout of unadulterated pleasure. "Fuck!" But the therapist didn't stop. It continued as a cycle—almost all the way out, and then right back in. Shikamaru shuddered—Neji's grip on his cock had tightened, and was pumping him in sync with the thrusts. It didn't help that this position didn't let him do anything, either.

"Did I tell you"—Shikamaru's eyes were screwed shut, so he couldn't see Neji's expression—but he figured it'd be similar to his own—"how fucking _tight_ you are?"

He couldn't answer. His breaths were coming shallower and shallower, the coil in his groin tightening and tightening—"Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_—"

Shikamaru had never imagined that people actually screamed during sex—Ino had certainly never done it, and he'd only ever seen it in porn—but there he was, on that armchair, gripping it for dear life, releasing onto both him and Neji, _screaming_ like his life depended on it. He couldn't hear Neji grunt as he emptied himself inside of him, but he didn't exactly care at the moment. His toes curled and his body froze, his orgasm ripping through him—his mouth was dry, his scream just became background noise—

When he came to, he was sitting upright in the armchair, Neji wiping his seed off of his chest with some tissues.

"I blacked out," he said dazedly.

The therapist surveyed him for a moment. "Yes, Nara-san. You blacked out." When Shikamaru was clean of all evidence of their sex, he moved to clean up himself. He swallowed, finding that his throat was raw and dry—but he was touched that Neji even bothered to clean him—especially when he snapped at him like that about the smoking before.

He cleared his throat, blinking in surprise. "My headache is gone." It was like a sweet, sweet bliss he'd never known.

Neji glanced at him, before pulling on his boxers, and then his pants. "Yes—that's usually what happens after blacking out as a result from mind-blowing sex." He was oddly composed, voice lacking that previous sensuality.

Shikamaru made a move to pick up his shirt. "Was it—was I good?" God, he couldn't believe he was asking that.

"You're my patient, Nara-san—you don't need to worry about that."

"Was I _good_?" he insisted. He was acting like a woman, he realized—bothersome and annoying and difficult to please. He clutched his shirt, knuckles white—he was almost angry with himself, acting the way Ino did in bed—not considering how his partner felt—

"Put on some clothes," Neji sighed, buttoning up his shirt. "Yes. You were…good."

"Then why are you talking to me as if I wasn't?" Shikamaru forced his arms through the sleeves of his shirt, buttoning it up and then yanking on his boxers and jeans. He pulled the elastic out of his hair, retying his ponytail that had been messed up.

"Because you are my _patient_, Nara-san." The therapist's eyes hardened. "You are not my friend, not my lover. You are my patient, and I was…overly intimate with you. I apologize."

Shikamaru snorted. "Because this whole exercise wasn't intimate to begin with." But he was careful not to make eye contact after that—it was erotic during their sex, but now, it was just unnerving. He took out his wallet and pulled out some bills, placing it onto the therapist's desk. "Consider it a tip." He went and grabbed his coat, steps quick as he headed for the door. Neji said nothing.

His hand held the doorknob. _Turn it._ His grip tightened, but he did nothing. _Turn it, dammit._ The silence in the room was smoldering, the tension palpable. He scowled.

_Troublesome._

"I was planning to break up with my girlfriend," he said loudly, not facing Neji. "We never really worked in the first place. I was just under the impression that it had to work. She's always complaining about how lazy I am, and I hate it when she spends my money on things she'll wear only once."

"Your session is over, Nara-san." Neji's voice was quiet, but controlled. "Please leave."

"Shikamaru," he said, looking back at him. "My name's Shikamaru. What time do you get off work tonight?" Neji looked up from his little book on his desk, and Shikamaru realized how much he wanted to kiss him. They hadn't done much of that.

"Seven. I get off at seven."

The first hints of a smile pulled at his lips. "I'll see you at seven, then."

**

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A/N:** This pairing needs more love. 8D (Oh, Shikamaru. You completed the first exercise in the end!)

I haven't written a lemon in _years_, literally. How am I doing? Did I balance the lemon with the plot well?


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